


Ten Steps Beyond

by evening_spirit



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: AU, CP, Cerebral Palsy, Disability, Disabled Character, Fear of Heights, Friendship, M/M, PTSD, RPF AU, Struggle against prejudice, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-13
Updated: 2011-06-13
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:36:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evening_spirit/pseuds/evening_spirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen is a mountain ranger. He loves mountains, he’s ambitious and . . . he’s had an accident that left him with fear of heights. In order to help him, his boss, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, finds him a tour that is supposed to ease him back into the game: as a guide on a simple trail with a tourist who described himself as someone with slight mobility issues -- think ‘ambitious grandpa’. When this tourist turns out to be a handsome young man, it also becomes obvious that his mobility issues are much bigger than “slight”. How will Jensen handle this unusual and difficult situation?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ten Steps Beyond

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:** They are actors, so I used their faces, their names and their 'fandom image' to tell a story that would otherwise be an Original Work  
>  **Beta:  bigj52**

[](http://s136.photobucket.com/albums/q198/o_yannik/spn/banners/?action=view&current=TenSteps-final-bridgecopy.jpg)

***  
 **Prologue**  
***

"Jensen."

A voice was calling but from too big a distance to really be heard, from behind a thick veil, from another life . . .

"Jensen!"

Not even panic, evident in the voice, would drag Jensen’s attention from the abyss he was staring into.

Felt like flying . . . 

"Jen-sen!!!"

. . . was like falling.

Jensen squeezed his eyes shut. Only then he heard the voice, remembered his surroundings. He looked up and met pale blue eyes.

"Are you with me, man?" the eyes asked. A hand appeared. "Hold on. Don’t look down."

What Jensen did, immediatelly, and saw . . . rocks. Feet, miles, light years of hard, sharp rocks stretching below him without limits, boundless, unending.

"Don't look DOWN !!!"

***  
 **Chapter One**  
***

They had a problem and Jensen was observant enough to notice that. He was their problem. A mountain ranger who was afraid of heights. Except that he wasn’t; it was just this one time, he probably took on too difficult a trail for the first time after the accident -- and less than a day after it on top of that. 

Yeah, Jeffrey had told him to take a break but he hadn’t been hurt and his father had always told him “if you fall off a bike you have to get right back on”. He’d thought the same logic applied to mountains.

He had been wrong.

Chaos Crags had smacked him right on his ass and he had barely climbed down; wouldn’t have done it at all if not for Christian’s steadying hand and soothing voice. When they’d returned to the Station their head ranger -- Jeffrey Dean Morgan -- had said he didn’t want to see Jensen in less than three weeks. Now those three weeks had passed and Jeffrey had a problem.

He handed Jensen a mug of coffee, glaring at him strangely. Watching him. Observing his reactions as if looking in the black depths of a bitter liquid could have the same effect on a ranger as looking down a precipice. Another ranger and Jensen’s best friend if he ever had one -- Christian Kane -- stood silently, his back propped against the counter in their small cabin that was proudly called the Ranger Station. His face was set, unreadable.

They -- Jeffrey and Christian -- exchanged glances.

“I have something just right for you,” Jeffrey said and Jensen’s heart skipped a beat. What were all those strange faces about then? If they had a job for him, why were they looking at him like this? 

“A guide. Kings Creek Campground through Mill Creek Falls, Mt. Conrad loop the next day, and back. Three days total,” Jeffrey recited in one breath.

“Are you kidding me?” was Jensen’s immediate reaction.

Now everything was clear. No one ever took a guide along that trail! It was probably the easiest in their region of the Park. Jeffrey had no right to send him on something like that! He was a ranger, damn it! They were only taking guide jobs for difficult stuff, like climbing. This? This was humiliating. And three days? For a tour that should take a day-and-a-half tops?

“The client has some mobility issues.” Jeffrey lifted his hands in a placating gesture, picked up the order and started leafing through it. “The way he described it -- think a seventy-year-old citizen with a lot of determination. He has been walking the mountains in his time from what I understood, so it needs to look like a challenge. No treating him like a pussy but he’ll most likely need some help, so a ranger is a must.” He put the file back on his desk and closed the distance between himself and his subordinate. “Jensen, his timing couldn’t be better, he needs an easy route with a guide; you need something easy to get back into the game.” He lifted his hands again, about to touch Jensen’s arm, squeeze it reassuringly which was something Jensen had always hated -- Jeffrey was too tactile for his tastes. He took a step back and Jeffrey’s hand hung in the air awkwardly. His voice died down as well.

“Fine,” Jensen seethed, “so just make me go with some god-knows-what Vietnam veteran who will be talking about his glorious past all the time. Way to go!”

“At least you won’t have to talk to him,” Christian grunted in the background.

Yeah. Great. Two against one.

Christian was right though, Jensen had to give him that. He’d never been the one to amuse others with conversation; when they were together, him and Christian, it was Christian who did the chatting, playing guitar and singing; Jensen was just doing his job. Well, he  _was_  damn good at it.

Jensen turned away from them both, disappointed and bitter; walked to the window and stood there with his back to the room. The rational part of his mind whispered that they were right but in his heart he felt betrayed. Years of friendship, years of trust and one little mistake is enough to ruin it all? He wouldn’t do it to them, he’d rather. . . He didn’t know exactly what he would do had the situation been reversed, but he knew he wouldn’t let either of them feel like a total failure.

In this frame of mind Jensen saw that guy for the first time. Of course he had no idea it was this guy --  _his_  guy -- at the moment. He saw a car pulling in and a face in a passanger window that made him gulp loudly. Bright, happy eyes, wide, toothy grin and -- he wasn’t certain -- dimples? Fucking dimples! He caught a glimpse of the guy’s wavy hair and the car passed the window and parked outside of Jensen’s line of vision, leaving his heart thundering like a thousand mustangs.

At this point Jensen didn’t even get angry that Christian would probably guide such a star, while he would have to go with some retired veteran or another kind of cripple. No, he simply marveled at the beauty that just passed by his eyes.

When the door cracked open he turned and met this smiling face again, bright hazel eyes and a mass of floppy hair and underneath -- a line of fine, broad shoulders . . . leaning on a pair of crutches. Nice torso . . . above short, twisted legs.

It had to be a joke.

Jensen smacked himself internally for thinking such thoughts. Well, yeah, the guy probably thought all his life had been a joke but, yeah -- Jensen wasn’t supposed to think that.

There was a moment of awkward silence as the guy’s eyes skimmed over each of the three of them. Then he smiled even broader and broke the silence with a happy, “Hello!”

Jeffrey snapped out of it first, marched through the room extending his hand and saying, “I’m Jeffrey Morgan,” he was so flabbergasted that he skipped over his middle name. “And you must be Jared Padalecki.”

“That’s me!” The guy winked. He shifted his weight a little, leaning on one crutch and extending his large palm toward Jeffrey. “And this is Chad.” He then gestured to another, shorter and very grim-looking man. “He’s going to sit back around here for the next three days.” His voice was a little thick, like he was swallowing consonants.

Chad muttered something that could easily be interpreted as “Fuck you!” and smiled tightly at Jeff, while shaking his hand.

“Don’t worry about anything,” Jeffrey smiled at the grumpy young man. “Your friend is going to be in good hands. This is Jensen Ackles.” He waved his arm toward Jensen and in his eyes Jensen saw a plea to behave. He took a step forward and felt as if the floor was made of pudding. Jesus, he was not going to collapse right here, was he? Surprisingly enough he managed to make those few steps and stand in front of Jared awkwardly with his coffee mug in his hands. Why could he never act like a normal human-being? Jared extended his hand toward him and Jensen started fumbling with the mug until Jeffrey took it out of his hand and put it on the counter.

“Jensen here can’t bring himself to get separated from his coffee.” Christian came to the rescue, laughing and patting Jensen on the back with one hand and grabbing Jared’s palm with the other. Then he nudged Jensen’s hand and Jensen felt the urge to tell Christian he wasn’t a moron. Except that he was.

His hand was swallowed completely by Jared’s large, strong, calloused palm. It was a tight grip but not painful.

“So, you’re the one I’m going to give a hard time to?” Jared laughed as if he wasn’t already regretting that he was given a halfwit for a guide.

Chad was not as friendly. He squeezed Jensen’s hand so hard, Jensen yelped.

Awkward was the word of the morning. 

Jeffrey saved the situation by inviting them all to sit down and as usual, he did all the intros, discussed the routes, options and the client’s abilities. He didn’t bat an eyelash doing so, even though they didn’t really have disability-level easy routes in their region of the Park. On top of that, Jared kept asking about “moderate” trails!

All in all they agreed to do the proposed Kings Creek Campground and, if they were up to it -- Jared insisted that he whould be fine -- Mt. Conrad loop the next day. 

“Good then!” Jeffrey clasped his hands. “Get ready and Jensen and I will prepare all the gear. C’mon.” Jeffrey waved at Jensen and got up abruptly. Once they were in the storage room, he locked the door and glared at Jensen. “You’re getting to Mill Creek Falls and turn back, understood?”

“But we said . . .” Jensen didn’t catch on immediately but just as he was responding he knew why Jeffrey made such a decision.

“Have you seen his legs?” the head ranger hissed. Jensen didn’t manage to confirm before Jeffrey carried on. “If you make it there and back by the evening, it will be awesome. Moderate trail, my ass!” Jeffrey turned around, paced a few steps into the room and back, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “I should have told him ‘no’.” He glared at Jensen again. “I will tell him.” He aimed at the door and stopped. “That damn bastard. He caught me off guard. Jesus, I’ve never made such a mistake in my career.” Jeffrey sat on one of the boxes and hung his head in resignation.

Jensen understood why Jeffrey couldn’t refuse now. The only moment was at the beginning but Jeffrey didn’t want to appear rude. Political correctness and all. He did try to suggest easier routes subtly but -- even with Chad’s tentative support -- didn’t manage to say more than two sentences. Jared was bouncing his suggestions off easily, with a sense of humor and grace. He knew what he wanted and before either Jeffrey or Jensen realized what was going on, it was him who made all the decisions.

Now it was too late.

“Turning back at Mill Creek Falls is the only option Jensen. Maybe even at West Sulfur. He’ll probably have trouble crossing that; don’t help him. Then when you’re at the Falls, he’ll most likely give up himself. If he doesn’t, you say ‘this is it’. Make it look as if you’ve just made the decision…or something . . .” Jeffrey didn’t have much faith in Jensen’s acting abilities. Still, Jensen assured him with a sincere nod that he was going to do as he was told.

***  
 **Chapter Two**  
***

Jared had dealt with prejudice so much in his life that it usually didn’t bother him. Perhaps, made him laugh at the idiocy of all those people who judged him by his looks.

He didn’t look pretty; cerebral palsy would do that to a person. Increased tension in the muscles of his limbs made his extremities -- especially lower ones -- look deformed like tree roots and his movements uncoordinated. If he were healthy, he would have been very tall like his father and older brother. Instead, the growth spurt in his teenage years caused contractions which prevented the ability to straighten his knees or stand on his heels. It made walking without any support like canes or crutches extremely slow and virtually impossible at a longer distance.

This and lifelong efforts to ‘be normal’ -- or as close to normal as he could be anyway -- forced first by his parents and then by himself, had taught Jared something of great value though: that if you worked hard, you could achieve the impossible. 

If it required lying, that was the least of his problems.

He had called the Ranger Station at Lassen Park and had told them that he needed something relatively easy for someone with slight mobility issues -- an ‘ambitious grandpa’ style. Of course his mobility issues were bigger than “slight” but his determination more than made up for it. No one would take his word for it if he started telling the truth, of course -- he had tried that a long time ago and was soon convinced it was not the way -- so he had to take them by surprise.

He succeeded, even despite Chad’s traitorous attempts at sabotaging this trip: from claiming that his car broke down this morning, to suggesting -- in the rangers’ presence! -- going farther north where there were  _accessible_  trails -- marked with a fucking wheelchair sign! Jared had overcome obstacles bigger than that in his time. Neither Chad fucking Michael Murray, nor those rangers stood any chance.

Before this Ackles guy managed to get “all the gear”, as Morgan put it, Jared was ready -- equipped with orthoses, comfortable shoes as well as knee-caps in case he’d have to scramble, cycling gloves and longer, under-arm “hiking” crutches, with his backpack firmly attached -- and waiting. And having listened to Chad’s fair warnings for the umpteenth time, he was starting to get really annoyed. Chad was a great guy and an awesome physiotherapist, and Jared expected to need him at the end of the day, but they were friends for six months more-or-less and the guy didn’t really get it yet -- how much Jared was capable of. Naturally he was still full of false beliefs.

Jared wondered about Ackles. He was damn pretty for starters, Jared couldn’t stop that thought from coming to the forefront. It didn’t really help the guide win Jared’s sympathy -- quite the contrary in fact, his first impression could hardly be worse. Of course, they were all surprised by Jared’s appearance and he expected nothing else but while Morgan got over it quite easily and later approached the issue of Jared’s disability in a frank and honest manner; that other guy, Christian Kane, shook his hand, smiled and talked with ease -- Jensen fucking Ackles couldn’t even look him in the eye. There were few things that infuriated Jared more than that. He’d rather take a blunt “you’re a cripple” over such silent treatment. 

He had to overcome his anger though -- he had too much at stake here -- and he was quite skilled at that as well. When Ackles came out with a backpack full of all the important stuff, Jared was  _zen_  about both him and Chad.

“Let’s go,” Ackles muttered, staring at his own feet, then turned toward the park gateway and started walking there -- very slowly. Jared waited until they were in the forest before noticing that and stating that he was very capable of walking faster. His swing-through gait could almost match the speed of a healthy walking man. The guide didn’t quite know how to respond to that but he increased his pace to much more comfortable.

They were strolling down a steep terrain but the road was traversing the slope so the march wasn’t harder than down a San Francisco street. Jared wondered what Ackles was thinking and he was getting more and more uneasy in this silence. 

“So,” he started eventually. “You’re from around here?”

“Um.” The guide glanced at him sideways. “I live here, yeah,” he nodded, then inhaled sharply. “Not  _here_ -here I mean, in the forest, or at the Station, but in Redding,” he added after a moment, unnecessarily and fell silent.

Butterflies swarmed inside Jared’s gut at that. A bad feeling -- it was called. He had never had that kind of problems with a guide before. Alright, so he made people uncomfortable, he knew that. He’d have to be stupid not to know that. However, rangers were usually the kind of people who would look past their prejudice and see the person in their disabled client. They would give him a chance and he would convince them that he  _could_  do all he said he could. Ackles didn’t seem to be willing to give him that chance.

Maybe they should go back? Maybe Jared would be better off with that other guy, Christian? He stopped, looked back at the Ranger Station and imagined Chad’s face; imagined how he’d have to try and explain things all over again and no, it was not worth it. He would work Ackles up like he had each and every other guide before. If it took more struggling, it was a challenge and Jared Padalecki had never backed out of a challenge. Next year however, he would take into account choosing the right guide before his first trip.

He gritted his teeth and kept limping down. They didn’t speak at all for the few minutes it took to reach the bottom of the ravine; the stream there wasn’t wide -- all it would take to cross it was a little longer jump. The steep slope on the other side would be more difficult and Jared watched it, estimating his options. Jensen didn’t say a word, simply observed and when Jared dipped his crutches in the water and swung his body onto the other side, the ranger didn’t make any attempt to help. Frankly, surprising as it was, Jared found himself appreciating that. He wasn’t used to not being offered assistance but it was nice, for a change, to be treated like a regular tourist -- at least that’s what Jared imagined regular tourists were treated like -- no matter if Jensen’s reasons were based on consideration of his disabled client’s pride or borne out of narrow-mindedness.

Once on the other bank Jared quickly attached the crutches to the holders on his backpack and crawled up the slope on all-fours. When the terrain leveled he lifted himself back up and turned to Jensen defiantly. He expected probing eyes, or at least a hasty turn away; people were always staring,  _always_. Instead, Jensen met his eyes this time, albeit briefly, then his gaze slid down onto the trail and ahead -- smoothly, like nothing happened. He kept walking slowly, waiting for Jared to catch up with him then he adjusted his pace to Jared’s.

Jared was thinking about a thousand ways to start the conversation but couldn’t decide on any. They walked in silence which, although uncomfortable at first, soon started feeling natural. Maybe it was just Jared’s fast life in a big city that made him want to talk so much. Here, it felt surprisingly good to listen to the wind in the treetops or the stillness of the vast, green fields.

***  
 **Chapter Three**  
***

“You must have incredibly strong hands.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Why being here is so important to you?”

There were so many things Jensen wanted to ask, to say, but each felt somehow wrong to him. Rude. “Are you okay?” was probably the worst of all but this one was on the tip of his tongue most often, whenever Jared stumbled, or stopped. Frankly, the stumbles, although inevitable, were much rarer than Jensen had expected and the stops -- it seemed -- were more to marvel at the views than to take some rest.

Jared’s determination was something to admire. He was an embodiment of Jensen’s beliefs that some people were simply made of steel. Some people didn’t complain whatever hardships life threw at them. Jensen had been with so many different people out here and Jared would put most of them to shame, all those complaining about too-tight shoes or how heavy their bags were, or even being thirsty. Jensen also complained about so many trivial things on occasion -- even though he hated that trait in himself without people like Jared proving to him it was wrong.

He wanted to show Jared his appreciation but he had no idea how. Stating that “Wow, you’re so awesome!” somehow didn’t fit. When they arrived at the ridge however, he got an idea.

Jared stopped there and stared at Mt. Conrad towering on the other side of East Sulfur Creek ravine.

“We could go along the trail now, or take a shortcut,” Jensen suggested.

Jared turned to him, his brow furrowed. “Shortcut?” he asked incredulously and Jensen thought that his idea did sound stupid indeed. Walking on crutches was difficult enough on the uneven ground; a ‘shortcut’ usually meant a less comfortable route.

“No.” His stomach scrunched painfully. “I don’t mean like, through the bush or something.” He had to save himself, because while he really didn’t think about Jared’s limitations, this plan wasn’t as enormously moronic as it appeared. “There is a trail. It’s not as well kept but it’s level. I mean, the main trail goes up and down, or actually first down, then up and it’s rather steep on the way down and then, halfway up it’s almost as steep as it was back there at the creek.” Jesus, this was so awkward! He really, really didn’t mean to remind Jared how he had to crawl his way up; he felt so bad for not helping him there too but he’d remembered Jeffrey’s instructions and hadn’t thought about disobeying until too late. “I mean, whatever you’d rather . . . There’s that option, either down and then up, or level, but through the bushes. Well, not so much bushes but less well-kept trail, which may actually turn more difficult.” No. No, this was not how he should have phrased this. Oh, shut up! “Anyway, the choice is yours,” he finished helplessly; staring at his feet; at the tips of Jared’s canes and at Jared’s misshapen shoes. 

How Jared could stand being all twisted and warped like this was beyond him, but the crippled man carried his cross with dignity.

“Okay, let’s say . . . Which one is prettier?”

Jensen looked up, startled and saw mischief sparkling in Jared’s eyes. 

Not which one was easier or harder, but which one was prettier.

Which one then? Jensen looked around. The main trail led through the forest, which was pretty on and off itself, but the shortcut led through the meadow and offered views of Mount Conrad.

“Shortcut then,” Jared stated and Jensen realized he based that decision on his expression and perhaps reading his mind, somehow. He smiled and Jared smiled back and it was like the sun came out.

Overwhelming.

Jensen wanted to say, “Let’s go,” or some other invitation like that but his throat was suddenly too tight to let the words out. He turned and moved on, watching for whatever obstacles there were that he could remove from Jared’s way. He heard the rhythmic clicking of Jared’s crutches behind his back and tried to adjust his speed, so it would be the best for his protégé. He stopped when he heard Jared stopping and moved when he thought Jared wanted to keep going. They stopped one last time at a place where the meadow ended and the main trail joined the shortcut again.

Jensen wondered what Jared would say and he was prepared to explain what they missed by shortcutting, there was that view of the ravine . . . but Jared brushed his bangs off his eyes and kept staring at Mt Conrad.

“Have you been there?” he asked eventually, turning to Jensen, surprising him.

Mt. Conrad . . .

Memories flooded Jensen’s mind, uninvited.

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“Lassen Peak?”

“Sure.”

“Shasta?”

Jensen nodded. He wondered where this listing of the highest mountains in the neighborhood was going and glared at the dark slopes of Mt. Conrad. He shivered . . .

“McKinley?”

Ah. The highest in North America.

“No.” Jensen looked down once again, thankful for the distraction. He turned away from the hypnotizing peak. “A little out of my league,” he muttered.

“Why?” Jared sounded surprised.

Why indeed? “Financially.” It was true until recently, now . . . Jensen wasn’t sure he could try to summit Mt Conrad in his current state of mind. It was the easiest mountain he knew but even she had her quirks and one of them . . .

“Let’s . . . Move. Okay?” there was something wrong with his voice. It sounded choked up.

***

 **Chapter Four**  
***

Jensen’s reaction to the mention of McKinley surprised Jared. To say it was over-exaggerated would be an understatement. The guy had tears in his eyes, damn it! 

Jared had a moment of thinking he could solve this problem for Jensen, it would be as easy as snapping his fingers . . . well . . . easier, actually, much easier. Because, financially? He could do almost anything. He was born into a wealthy family. He was skilled enough to multiply that wealth ten times over since he’d joined the business. His limitations were strictly physical and Jensen--

No, he was so not having this idea!

Jared had to keep the reins on his over-inventive mind. Jensen Ackles may have been pretty (where did that thought come from again?) and he may have shared his dreams -- although, could Jared base that solely on one reaction? He didn’t think so. But more importantly -- the rational part of Jared’s brain reminded him -- Ackles was not the kind of person Jared would want to share the whole experience with. He’d spent too many years planning this, invested too much, even if he wasn’t quite ready yet. He would go to McKinley. Some day. And he would find all the right people to help him achieve this dream, but finding them was not the reason he was here now. This trip was supposed to serve be strictly for building up his fitness and showing the rangers at Lassen Park that he could take on more challenging trails -- so he could build up his fitness further yet.

He had a long, long way to go before attacking the High One. This year -- his focus was on Lassen. Jared knew about quite a few interesting trails there and he intended to finish it off with Lassen Peak or Brokeoff Mountain in autumn. Not necessarily all the way to the top; he wasn’t dead-set on summiting McKinley either, he knew his limits. But making the attempt, getting as far as possible -- or ten steps beyond -- this was the goal. He had no way of achieving it without the help of a ranger, so he needed to make the ranger trust him, have faith in him. And this -- was the goal of the day.

Ackles was a tough one, with his prejudice and obvious discomfort but Jared started believing he could get through the guy’s thick skull. It was like stealing glimpses of what was behind a curtain; soft smile here, a gleam of eyes there. Yes, definitely, he and this guide would bond by the end of the day. They had to. There simply was no other option because if they didn’t, if at the end of the day Ackles could not trust him, Jared knew they would not continue this trip at all.

Looking up, Jared saw Ackles’s broad back disappearing between the trees some five yards ahead of him. It was the first time the guide left him unattended and Jared held his breath in astonishment. It wasn’t even about how Jared wasn’t used to not being hovered over. No, it was something else and remembering the other man’s distress he wondered . . . What if Jensen Ackles didn’t have a problem with his disability? What if he simply had a totally unrelated problem?

Jared laughed to himself at the thought. Hello! Not everything was about how he looked or walked. Well, he was well aware of that, he wasn’t some self-centered prick but the problem was, when people were uncomfortable around him, more often than not it  _was_  about how he looked or walked. As for Ackles, apparently he hadn’t yet decoded the man’s nonverbal signals.

He’d have to try better then because if it wasn’t about that, his approach in winning Ackles’s faith in him would have to be modified. For the timebeing it came down to observing and it wasn’t long before Jared’s new theories were to be tested once more.

It started innocently. They were walking down steep terrain again, closing in on a waterfall humming softly and steadily between the trees. Jared bordered on expecting to be helped and if help was offered he would readily use it. Since it wasn’t and he still knew he  _could_  make it down, he didn’t ask. He noticed Ackles giving him odd sideways glances, however, and they made Jared suspicious again, almost against his will.

The hum of the waterfall was increasing and when they passed the line of trees, the view which opened before them was breathtaking. The ground cut off barely a few meters ahead. Judging by the mist and the little rainbows over the ridge -- and of course by the noise level, -- the water had quite a way to fall. Jared limped as near as he dared and watched the rocks forming the hideous shapes below and a fragment of the little pool at the feet of the cascade -- the rest of it was obscured by rocks. Another stream joined this one in the place where they both plunged to the bottom. It was beautiful.

When he turned toward Jensen, he expected a smile or some other manifestation of rightful pride in this place. Instead he met his guide’s guilt-stricken face.

“So,” Jensen shrugged and dropped his gaze. “I guess we’re going back now.”

Jared watched him, eyes wide open.

“What? Why?”

He turned back to the waterfall. This wasn’t even the crossing -- it was supposed to be further upstream through a ford! Hopefully Jensen didn’t intend to fool him that they’d have to jump through the waterfall; not even able-bodied people could fly! Jared shook his head and not waiting for Jensen’s reaction he moved ahead. A few yards up he was at another clearing and there it was: a line of stones, half-dipped in the water. He turned back to his guide and watched his face with growing surprise. Jensen was red as a tomato.

“I really don’t think--” he attempted an explanation, avoiding Jared’s eyes. “It’s dangerous. And difficult.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jared tried to not get angry. To think he had started believing there would be no prejudice! How foolish of him! “Look, man. I’m fine here, okay? I can do it, piece of cake.” He could. It was nothing he hadn’t done before.

“Really-- I--” Ackles stopped, staring at the stones and licking his lips.

Jared frantically tried to find an argument that would get to this guy.

“Look, I don’t even mind getting a little wet,” he tried joking. “I have spare shoes in my backpack. Stop fooling around and let’s just go.”

He should just go. He should ignore Ackles and simply  _show him_  but there it was -- the reason he needed a ranger, a guide, a help. He needed to take his backpack off and that required acrobatic skills  _and_  assistance. Oh, okay, he could try with it on but the problem was -- his center of mass was higher then and landing on his ass was more likely. On the uneven, slippery stones -- actually certain. He would have to be extra careful even without additional weight.

Ackles probably thought someone on crutches and with legs like his couldn’t do it at all but he was so wrong. Of course, he would have to maneuver differently than someone who could walk freely but he knew how to maneuver. He knew how to overcome most obstacles. And he really, really didn’t mind getting wet if things didn’t go as desired. What was the worst that could happen?

“I really can’t take that risk,” Ackles whispered.

“What fucking risk?”

“I’m supposed to--”

“Oh, shut up! Listen.” Jared couldn’t hold back any more. “We walked here for two hours, right? We’d be coming back for two more, that’s less time than it took me to drive here from San Franciso. I didn’t come here for a walk in the forest, man! I came here for a hike, a three-day hike and that’s what I’m gonna do and I won’t have any fucking ranger telling me what’s too dangerous or too damn difficult for me! What do you know, anyway?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Damn right you are. Now, you’re helping me to take this backpack off, then I’m going to the other side and then you’re taking both bags and your sorry ass after me. That’s what we’re gonna do, is that clear?”

Ackles swallowed, his face contorted in pain that seemed almost physical. Jared wanted to punch him. Make him really hurt.

At least his words finally did their job as Ackles moved his ass and stepped closer. He helped Jared wriggle out of all the straps, his gaze relentlessly fixed somewhere around Jared’s navel. Oh, whatever! Jared told himself that he would not get upset. He came here for a hike. Even if he was going to have to give up on the next two days and, as a result, unavoidably on the rest of Lassen -- because he didn’t think he could stand looking at Ackles’s face for another minute -- he was going to take the most of  _this_  day.

Breath in and breath out. Or five breaths, because that’s how many it took to wipe out all thoughts about Jensen Ackles from Jared’s mind. He concentrated on the stream. On the slippery rocks and the rapid current around them.

He had seven steps to make. 

Positioning the crutches on each side of the first stone, Jared jumped onto it. He had a moment of unsteadiness because his handgrips were almost a foot lower than they should have been but he regained his balance and proceeded to move on to the next rock. Left first, right next, and swing. And repeat. 

There was a bigger gap between fourth and fifth stone and Jared didn’t manage to latch onto it. His right foot slipped but for a brief moment he was certain he would recover -- all it would take was to push on the right crutch, lean more on the left and pull the leg up -- instead he found himself losing contact with the ground altogether.

It took him one long, terrifying heartbeat to find his bearings and realize he was lifted and that he was being carried! In a damn fireman’s grip, his head down, crutches flailing madly and then he was back on his feet and canes and Jensen fucking Ackles was standing before him, panting.

Jared didn’t hit people. He often wanted to but whenever it happened -- two or three times in his life -- he landed on his ass, so it didn’t really pay off. This time he couldn’t hold himself back. He pushed on Ackles’s chest with all force born out of anger and fear and to his utter surprise he remained vertical.

“What the fuck?” he backed up his physical outburst with words.

“I-- you--” Ackles attempted to stutter.

“What! The! Fuck?” Jared didn’t let him explain. He didn’t want an explanation. He wanted to  _not be lifted_  off the ground without a word and unnecessarily on top of that!

Ackles turned around and swiftly returned for their bags and again to Jared’s side. Jared noticed that his pants were wet up to the knees. Well, fuck him! He so deserved it.

“Let’s go,” Jensen muttered.

“Bag,” Jared barked at him.

“There’s another crossing in a moment,” Jensen gave as his reason for carrying both backpacks and Jared didn’t argue. He turned and started walking when he heard Jensen speak in a low voice. “This was East Sulphur Creek. At the falls it joins Bumpass Creek and down lower, in a ravine under Mt. Conrad,” his voice quivered here, like he had something in his throat, “it joins with West Sulphur, which we crossed at the beginning of this hike, right under the walk-in. That’s where Mill Creek really starts. The name Mill Creek Falls is somewhat overstated then.” He chuckled and Jared needed to turn around and look at him closely. This sudden bout of eloquence was even weirder than his earlier muteness. When Jensen became aware that he was being watched, he clammed up again. 

Jared felt like he was thrown into a movie, in the middle of it to be exact, without a script and with no knowledge what the plot was about. The thought that Ackles didn’t have a problem with his disability but a problem in general came up in his head again, more pronounced this time and along with it another swarm of butterflies in his stomach. Bad feeling.

The guide didn’t let him mull over this too long, walking quickly through the woods and not long after they came to the aforementioned Bumpass Creek and the bridge that was supposed to get them to the other side. Well, this was the kind of crossing Jared had never walked through before.

***

 **Chapter Five**  
***

Jensen was at a loss. They crossed the first of the Mill-Creek Falls streams, which was against Morgan’s orders. At first Jensen felt those orders were more than justified. Now however, having faced Jared’s anger and disappointment, he knew how sincere those emotions were. He watched, awestruck, how the crippled man balanced on the stones and this time -- unlike back at the entrance where he had followed his bosses instructions -- he couldn’t  _not_  help. Little good it did, since he was rebuked for it -- rightfully so in hindsight.

And now . . .

They stopped before the crossing and Jared was watching the bridge for a long time. Well, Jensen couldn’t imagine how they would cross it other than him carrying Jared. It was a narrow footbridge made of a single trunk, a foot wide with a handrail at hip-height. It was ten feet long and hung about five feet above the foamy creek.

“You’ll have to get me through it,” Jared said eventually and Jensen was sure he meant carry.

He didn’t.

At Jensen’s timid question if it would be piggy-back, or what -- because obviously fireman’s grip was not Jared’s favorite, thank you very much! -- Jared gave him a stare that should burn him to the ground.

“No,” he barked through clenched teeth, barely opening his mouth. “I hate being carried; I’ve hated it since I was six.” He glared at the bridge again, then moved to the most level spot in the vicinity and looked at Jensen again. “You’ll help me walk through it. Come’ere, we’ll see if it works.”

Jensen dropped the bags and did as he was told. Jared instructed him to stand in front of him, “a little closer, man,” telling him to hold out both his hands and wait. Jared then proceeded to take off his gloves, finally pressing his elbows into Jensen’s palms and gripping Jensen’s underarms.

“Like this,” he whispered, focused. “Don’t let go.”

The last element of the transition was shedding the crutches and Jensen could feel the weight of this six-foot-tall man resting on his arms now. It took some sweat to maintain balance but Jensen wouldn’t fail his protégé, he wouldn’t!

“Can you walk through the bridge backwards?” Jared asked, although at this point the question was mostly rhetorical. Jensen nodded and took a small step back, pulling Jared with him. It surprised him how much effort it took for Jared to put one foot in front of the other. When walking on crutches he was barely moving his legs, now he had to take steps and his legs were stiff, tense and wobbly. Despite that, he walked. This determination made Jensen’s heart clench. It proved even more that Jared was a man of steel. He set himself goals which were difficult to reach for a healthy person and, struggling against his body, he pushed to achieve them. Jensen wished he had a tenth of Jared’s strength.

Jensen wasn’t sure if Jared meant to only try to see if it worked, or if he really wanted to go across already. He hesitated when they were a few feet away from the crossing and Jared looked at him questioningly.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m fine. Keep going.”

The transition onto the bridge went well, even though the trunk stood a few inches above the ground. Jensen thought that he should have used ropes and carabiners to keep them safer but it was too late now. They had to make it like this.

The bridge wasn’t long; all it would take for Jensen were four steps. For Jared though it seemed more like ten steps and each took almost a minute. His feet just wouldn’t obey, they would stick, or he would step too close to the edge and had to doubletake, or he would stand on Jensen’s toes. His breathing was becoming faster and more strained, his grip on Jensen’s forearms tighter. It looked as though he was getting tired.

Jensen thought that they should stop for a moment and Jared, as if reading his mind, paused in the middle of the bridge. It seemed like a natural progression, like he just wanted to take a breather; instead, in his usual manner, Jared intended to admire the view under their feet.

“Damn, this river sure runs fast!” he whispered.

It wasn’t uncommon for the tourists to get caught up in a view like this and more often than not it led to them getting worked up and to having a panic attact as a result. This bridge wasn’t all that high but considering Jared’s physical state, Jensen was prepared to deal with anything.

He squeezed Jared’s elbows gently and said in his most calm and reliable tone, “Don’t look down.”

Jared lifed his gaze and there was a smirk on his face and no trace of fear in his eyes.

His eyes . . . 

Memories of an unclear past assaulted Jensen’s mind and he felt his breath freeze in his lungs. He did look in someone’s eyes like this, only those eyes  _were_  frightened . . .

He couldn’t . . .

Suddenly he realized how far above the rocks they were, how rapid was the current beneath and how foamy. How the bridge rocked under their feet and how Jared couldn’t really keep his balance and that he wouldn’t be able to stand if Jensen wasn’t supporting him and that he would fall . . .

“Jensen.”

The bridge creaked and Jensen gripped the handrail, forgetting about the arm he was supposed to hold; the other man’s claws bit into his flesh like fire.

“Jensen!”

He couldn’t . . . He . . .

“Look at me!”

No.

“Look at me, damn it!”

No. Jensen squeezed his eyes shut. No, can’t look into those eyes, not ever again, too deep, too far to the ground. He couldn’t breathe . . .

“We have to move,” the voice now strained, frightened, “I won’t hold on much longer.”

Move. We have to move. A step, back, another . . .

“Not so fast!”

Faster!

“Damn it!”

The ground escaped from under Jensen’s feet and he was falling, falling backwards down, down. Wham!

His back hit the ground, Jared’s body hit his from above and he sprung back up almost immediatelly.

“What the fuck, man!” He gripped Jensen’s collar and seethed into his face from so close, his hazel eyes crossed. “Jesus, what’s wrong with you?”

If he only knew . . .

***

 **Chapter Six**  
***

This was the scariest moment in Jared’s life. At the same time it was a moment he walked the fastest ever, even if it was only for three steps. He’d love to show this to one of those doctors who’d told his mother when he’d been a baby, that he’d never walk. Of course he tripped, stumbled and eventually fell on his face but it wasn’t until they crossed this damn bridge. Actually Jared could swear it was Jensen who tripped and stumbled and pulled him along.

He’d never seen a panic attack from this close but if anyone asked him, he’d say this was a clear-as-day panic attack. The guide told him not to look down then snapped, like snap-your-fingers snapped. Started frantically looking around, breathing fast, sweating even. Damn, Jared wasn’t really sure how he got the man to move but he was glad he did. Too fast or not too fast, they got to the other side and they were safe.

Too bad their bags and his crutches were left behind. Actually that plain sucked. Well, there were people on the trail, so Jared could ask some of them to get his belongings for him, fine. Only he didn’t know when someone would come. At worst he could pull out his cell phone and call the Ranger Station and they would send a more reliable guide. Maybe that Kane guy. Or . . . he could crawl over the damn bridge. Why the hell didn’t he think about it before? He could have crawled over it and not asked Ackles for any help in the first place!

Ackles. This brought Jared’s thoughts back to the man still lying sprawled on the ground. He’d asked if he’d broken anything and the guide hadn’t responded. He kept staring at the bright-blue sky, breathing fast and shallow and hiccupping every once in a while.

“Damn it! Snap out of it, man!” Jared yelled for the umpteen time and added weakly, “Someone has to get my crutches back.”

Jensen sat up. He looked around like a man in a fever, got to his feet, walked through the bridge in three long strides, picked up both bags, crutches and returned, quickly and efficiently. He dropped everything next to Jared, walked a few steps away into the bushes slightly below and promptly vomited.

Jared watched it all, struck with dread. He couldn’t remember ever being in a situation like this, definitely not on the trail. At the family company, the fate of many people lay in his hands and he had solved more than one personal crisis, had dealt with conflicts between people, had even witnessed a breakdown, although he hadn’t been the one who needed to handle the situation at the time. This was the experience he needed to call upon as he got to his feet and neared Jensen, still doubled over, dry-heaving.

“You need anything?”

Jensen’s gaze slid over him unseeing, feverish.

“Sorry,” he croaked.

He returned to their backpacks, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand; picked them both up and stared at them as if not knowing what purpose they served.

“Help me put mine on,” Jared supplied.

Jensen acted like a robot. He pulled the straps over Jared’s arms, fastened all buckles and put his own bag on as well.

“Let’s go,” he whispered into the air, not to Jared specifically.

He walked fast now, almost too fast for Jared to catch up. The path was heading down, not too steep but not very comfortable either. Jared was almost about to tell Jensen to slow down, when they came to a clearing and Jensen stopped like he was rooted to the spot.

Before Jared asked what was going on, he saw the answer: they were at the viewpoint. The clearing ended a few yards away in a precipice, which was of course secured by a metal railing. From there, from the railing, the tourists could admire the view of the waterfall and of the Mill Creek -- or whatever the name was -- Valley below. From where they stood, Jared could see the distant other side of the valley and part of Mt. Conrad. As he moved forward, he heard Jensen whisper, “Don’t go there.”

It was so soft he could have easily missed it.

But he heard it.

“What?”

“What?” Jensen repeated, startled. “No, nothing. It’s . . . lovely.” His breathing became fast and strained again.

“If you don’t want me to go, I don’t--”

“No.” Jensen shook his head. “It’s what you came here for, go. The view is breathtaking. Just, go. Go.” But he didn’t move to accompany Jared. 

Jared didn’t have to look over the ridge. He didn’t come here for this view, at least not for it alone. No, he came for a hike, like he’d said before.

“I don’t have to,” he told Jensen now. “I don’t need to go see it now.” They’d be returning this way the day after tomorrow. At least that used to be the plan . . .

“You should see it,” Jensen breathed out, staring at his own shoes.

“Let’s just go up the trail. Let’s go, Jensen.”

The guide didn’t pressure him any more. He turned and led them toward the trail. They walked in silence.

Jared didn’t feel butterflies in his stomach any more. Now he knew for certain that the situation was fucked up beyond all measures. The irony of it was that he was positive he had Jensen Ackles’s esteem now. He had seen it in his eyes up there, on the bridge, right before Jensen flipped out, the genuine determination to help, to make it through. A hint of a smile that had made the guide’s green eyes even greener.

Damn!

It was so not the time to think about how attractive Ackles’ eyes were. Jared needed to concentrate on his task and as luck would have it, he seemed to be farther from it now than half an hour ago. Back then he had thought Jensen Ackles was a rude bigot and he had ways, means and plans to rise above that. As it turned out, the guide was not intolerant, perhaps never had been. No, instead he simply couldn’t take on a job as difficult as being an escort and an assistant to a tourist on the trail. They were on an easy trail, one that, under normal circumstances wouldn’t require ranger’s support at all. Jared began to realize exactly why Jensen Ackles was assigned this duty to babysit a cripple like him. Simply because he couldn’t handle anything more demanding.

He wanted to scream and throw things. So much effort . . . for nothing.

Ackles stopped and Jared almost rammed into him. He looked ahead and realized they stood at the foot of another uphill section of the trail. The adrenaline built up at the bridge now faded out and Jared felt his legs and arms trembling. 

“We should take a break,” Jensen said quietly, as if reading his mind. “We haven’t stopped since we took off. Actually--” he halted abruptly.

“Actually-- what?” Jared turned to him.

“I didn’t-- Didn’t think you’d come this far. I mean, able-bodied people take first break at the viewpoint, so, you’re even--” he licked his lips then looked up timidly with a faint smile. “You  _are_  awesome.”

Jared burst with loud, happy, tension-relieving laughter. He didn’t expect that one and knowing that Ackles thought about him this way was more heartwarming than he thought it would be. “Well, thanks,” he said when he could talk again. Ackles smiled, nodded and looked at the grass beneath their feet again.

“So,” he took a deep breath. “The nearest resting area is back there, at the viewpoint, a few benches but-- We could sit down on the grass instead, if you want. I mean, I have a pad.”

“Let’s sit on the pad, then.” Jared really wasn’t up for going anywhere, backward or ahead, right at this moment.

***

 **Chapter Seven**  
***

Things felt easier after that, Jensen managed to convince himself. He helped Jared take off his backpack; he even helped him uncap the water bottle which, although it had an easy-removable cap, turned to be too difficult a task for his trembling hands.

“I’ll be fine in a few moments,” Jared assured, almost embarrassed. “It really is not my first time hiking,” he added then. “Last year I was at Shasta. No, I didn’t summit,” he chuckled at the sight of Jensen’s wide-open eyes and Jensen berated himself internally; he shouldn’t act that surprised, it was rude! Jared didn’t seem to mind, though. In fact, he took most of Jensen’s clumsy manners in his stride. In addition to his dealing gracefully with his disability, he was also an unusually polite person. “It’s not about the summit, you know?” he spoke again in a distant, almost dreamy tone. “It’s about the attempt and about the views. Mountains are so beautiful! When I was sixteen my brother took me to Yosemite -- just to look! -- and I fell in love. I couldn’t imagine not walking there, not aiming higher.”

It was such a normal, natural dream. Jensen listened and agreed with his whole heart. Jared must have read his thoughts because he asked, “What about you? Was it love at first sight as well?”

“Pretty much.” Jensen remembered the day he had left home and came to Colorado. He was sixteen as well. “I grew up in Texas which is rather flat all around. Then my parents divorced and I moved to Montrose with my father. Yeah, it was love at first sight. I used to disappear for days at a time whenever I felt down and just . . . walk.”

Lost in his memories, Jensen lay down on the pad and stared at the treetops and the blue sky above them, like when he’d been younger . . . when the wilderness, the green and the blue seemed to make everything better . . . breathing the clear, cool air, listening to silence.

Everything was fine now, he told himself and believed it. There was nothing that needed to be ‘made better’.

“What happened to you up there?” Jared destroyed the illusion.

His question was barely louder than the breeze in the tree branches but it echoed in Jensen’s mind like a cannon shot. Up there. Must have meant the bridge. Jensen couldn’t remember. Only that the eyes pleaded him not to let go but he did let go. Only he didn’t if Jared was still here.

“Hey, take it easy,” he heard Jared’s voice, a rough whisper and he saw the other man’s face above his, worried, hazel eyes glaring at him from under the furrowed brow. “Breathe, man, breathe.”

The air smelled of spring.

Everything was fine.

Jensen pushed Jared’s hands away as he sat up abruptly.

“If you are rested,” he rasped, “can we go?”

He didn’t see the odd look in Jared’s eyes, or if he did -- he ignored it. He didn’t want to think about reasons, about the questions Jared asked, so he ignored all attempts at breaking through to his memories. Instead he concentrated on admiring Jared’s determination.

The man kept pushing up and forward, even though physically he seemed to weaken. He lost his balance on the steep slope and Jensen had to support him. He fell a few steps farther and Jensen helped him stand up. When they reached the clearing at the saddle they made another longer stop to admire the view and rest. Jared stared at Brokeoff Mountain, visible on the other side of the valley in clear awe.

The sight was marvelous, Jensen couldn’t deny. The tall mountain looked like an ocean wave frozen mid-move. It looked like charging cohorts. It looked like some giant had taken his battle axe and chopped off half of the rock.

“The volcano here,” Jensen put on his guide-hat, “was almost as big as Shasta. It ranged from Brokeoff to Diamond Peak and Mt Diller to the north and Mt Conrad to the south. It was over 11,000 feet tall. Eventually its eruptions seized and it collapsed in on itself. Brokeoff came out of this the most . . . broken, in the area.”

“It sure deserves the name,” Jared said quietly and sighed. Jensen would never ask him what he was thinking at the moment. He thought he could imagine, although he was beginning to learn that he was far from guessing this man’s thoughts correctly. It was the case this time, as before. Jensen had assumed that Jared would never contemplate challenging this peak; that his thoughts were those of regret at the limitations he was facing and everything he couldn’t have. Instead, Jared was simply calculating. “It’s difficult, isn’t it? Lassen Peak is easier?” he asked and added, seeing as Jensen opened his mouth and clammed it shut right away: “I mean Lassen is obviously a longer hike but not as turbulent, right?”

Jensen didn’t know how to respond. It wasn’t a rhetorical question; it was very specific and there were logical conclusions that could be derived from the answer the ranger would give. 

He looked straight at Jared. “Are you planning on going up there?” he asked in a frank manner.

“Either there,” Jared shrugged, “Or Lassen. What do you think?”

Jensen shook his head. “None?” he tried, surprised by how blunt he was. He couldn’t help himself though, he couldn’t let Jared take such risks; he couldn’t give him hopes for things that couldn’t be accomplished.

Jared only burst out laughing.

“Somehow I knew you would say that,” he smiled, his bright, hazel eyes jumping from Jensen’s face to the Brokeoff Mountain in the distance. “Again, as at Shasta, I do not intend to summit. If I somehow manage, it would be the greatest thing but what I want is to get as high as I can, you know.” His eyes were so sincere, so open now, that Jensen wanted to cry. Jared added in a whisper, “This is my motto, man: to get as far as I can. And ten steps beyond.”

Jensen turned away from him and blinked rapidly. He couldn’t . . . He was hoping he wouldn’t have to speak up because his voice would surely fail him now.

“So tell me,” Jared demanded an opinion though, “Which one would give me more thrills?”

Jensen’s tension broke out in strained laughter. He should have known, should have expected by now that this would be what Jared would ask. He didn’t care for hardships or handicaps -- all that mattered was fun, a lovely view and excitement.

“Brokeoff,” Jensen stated, looking straight at him and meeting a broad smile. Like sunshine. “You might not get to half of its rise but it would kick your ass like no other in this range. The view is magnificent too; some say it’s better than from Lassen. Besides Lassen summit is dull, compared to Brokeoff, especially on the northern approach.”

“Awesome.” Jared cast a glance at the mountain, at its nearly vertical northern wall. “Will you take me there?” he asked.

“Anytime.” Jensen laughed before he realized what he’d said. He sobered immediately. He had forgotten who he was talking to! That route required serious climbing equipment as well as experience. It was definitely not possible for a person who was less than  _very_  physically fit, no matter how much Jared would assure him that he could do it. Jensen wouldn’t allow even every  _healthy_  person to go this route. And right now he didn’t think he could  _take_  any healthy person up there. He didn’t think he could go there with Chris . . .

His heart was pounding madly in his chest, in his ears and in his head and he could barely hear Jared’s voice through the hum.

“. . . not that daring . . . a good judge of my own abilities . . . think I would take the southern . . . Jensen? Jensen, are you okay?”

No, Jensen wasn’t okay. He was not okay with taking Jared on a baby-easy trail! He nearly got him killed, or at least seriously injured back there, on the bridge, because he wasn’t thinking! He should have pulled his head out of his ass long enough to think about securing them to the rope, to say the least. He should have been the one making decisions on how the streams were to be crossed! He was the ranger; he had enough experience to handle that and not let things get out of his control enough to risk lives!

“Easy . . .”

“No! It’s my responsibility!” he realized he was screaming out loud, he was standing, hovering above Jared, but he couldn’t stop. “You are my responsibility and I’m not doing my job, because I’m too damn scared! I can’t get over it, hear me! I  _didn’t get over it_  and I shouldn’t have come back!”

He turned away, curling in upon himself, hiding his face in his hands and sobbing, a heart-wrenching sound, everything within his body protesting against the overwhelming grief.

***

 **Chapter Eight**  
***

This was it. Jared sat staring at Jensen and for a while he couldn’t move, he couldn’t even breathe. Then he told himself he would make Jensen talk. He simply couldn’t afford all that time and all that effort he’d already invested in Lassen, go to waste. He had gained his guide’s trust. In fact, if he thought about Jensen’s behavior in light of the latest events, he could perhaps say that Jensen had trusted him from the get-go. Maybe.

Either way it didn’t matter. Now the man had reached his breaking point and someone had to help him pick up the pieces. Since there was no one else around and Jared was vitally interested in improving Jensen’s condition, he needed to do something. He wanted to shake the man, slap him across the face, wake him up but he was well aware that he needed to be gentle before he’d start pushing

Jared crawled closer to the crushed figure and clumsily wrapped his arms around Jensen. Dry sobs were wracking the guide’s body and Jared kept stroking his back and whispering some nonsense how “It’s okay,” and “It’s gonna be fine.” When Jensen calmed down enough to push him away a few inches, Jared asked as kindly as he could, “What happened?” When it got no reaction other than Jensen shaking his head, Jared tried a different question, “What got you all worked up like this?”

He needed Jensen to feel better for selfish purposes but all of the sudden Jared realized he felt sincere compassion as well.

Jensen refused to respond, however. “It’s nothing,” he sighed, wiping his face. There were no tears, his eyes were bright green and dry and glassy. Distant.

“It’s not ‘nothing’.” Jared couldn’t accept such blatant downplaying of his problems. “It’s bothering you and denying it won’t make it go away.”

“It won’t?” Jensen snapped. Jared didn’t like the grimace on his face, it made him look like a different person. Un-pretty. “You’re doing great denying your disability!”

Jared stared at him wide-eyed. “I don’t deny it,” he breathed out, taken aback. He didn’t expect a strike from this direction! He never thought that his trying to make his dreams come true could be interpreted as denial! “I face up to it, Jensen. I accept it and face it, that’s all. I never try to deny it!” Jensen dropped his gaze, probably ashamed but Jared found himself still talking. “I don’t deny it, Jensen, I don’t pretend my body is different than it is but I can’t just sit on my ass and whine how miserable I am! I have my goals and I intend to achieve them.” Only this morning he thought Jensen Ackles would be the last person he’d ever tell about his Great Plan and here he was, explaining his motivations and sharing his innermost desires. “I intend to go to McKinley one day. That’s my dream but I’m not going there now, in case you haven’t noticed; I didn’t go there ten years ago when I started all this! I don’t pretend that I can. Maybe I never will; it doesn’t stop me from trying!” 

“Sorry,” Jensen muttered under his breath and it reminded Jared of where this conversation started. He wanted to help Jensen understand that saying ‘nothing happened’ isn’t the way. 

“It’s not denial,” he whispered. “It’s acceptance of my own limitations and working toward overcoming them.”

“Which is what makes you awesome.”

“No. It’s not. It’s simply experience. Trust me, you can be just as awesome. You can face up to whatever your problem is, accept it and then move on to greater things.”

“No,” Jensen cut in. “I can’t. I’m a coward and a wimp.” He stood up in haste. “Now we should go.”

“Jensen.” Jared had to squint to protect his eyes from the bright sun shining over Jensen’s head. He couldn't see his face.

“No, really,” Jensen insisted and changed the subject. “Are you rested? It’s afternoon, Jared, and we’re not quite half-way there yet. The trail is easier from here on but you’re getting more and more tired, don’t tell me you’re not. We should get moving if we want to make it before nightfall, which we do, trust me.”

Jared didn’t want to comply. He had told himself he’d make Ackles talk and his failure in this regard was unacceptable! Failing a physical challenge, like this whole trip, was something he was more or less used to but he had never had a problem getting through to people once he set his mind to it. It should be the same with the stubborn ranger, he thought and started pulling himself up on his crutches to follow the other man.

As he did, his muscles protested with tearing pain. This time his body once again rioted against the ambitions of his mind; Ackles was right, he was getting tired. It was the first trip this year and despite a two-month preparation Jared was still not in his top form. He ignored all the aches and started swinging after the guide, although slower and less vigorously.

Perhaps he was in denial, he wondered as they entered the woods again. Perhaps he aimed a little  _too_  high. He wanted to walk the mountains, he wanted to be like a regular tourist and then some. If he was completely honest with himself, he secretly dreamed about being the first disabled person to climb one of the famous peaks. This was the kind of dream he should probably store among ‘unrealistic’ ones but then . . . He had always had unrealistic ambitions, at first motivated by his parents who hated to think about his future in a wheelchair, then fueled by the fact that so many of those most impossible dreams had already come true -- he could walk to begin with! Why not one more? And another? 

He looked up and met Jensen’s eyes. This time though, the guide turned away hastily, as if he didn’t want to get caught staring.

“That’s Crumbaugh Lake.” He waved indistinctly toward the forest below them. “I mean behind the trees.”

“Why are you acting like this?” Jared attacked out of the blue.

“Like . . . What?”

Jared shrugged. Why could his dreams come true, why was he wrestling and scraping to achieve them and someone else would only sit back and whine? He couldn’t understand such an approach and he couldn’t accept it!

He looked Ackles in the eye and suddenly he knew where it would hurt the most. 

***

Jensen couldn’t remember! How many times did Jared need to hear that  _nothing happened_? He was fine, he was a little shaken maybe, because of what happened during that trip with Christian three weeks ago, that was all!

“What happened during that trip with Christian?” Jared pushed.

“Since when is it your business?”

“Since you nearly had me fall off that bridge!”

Jensen’s breath caught in his throat. This . . . Why did Jared? . . . He apologized. He didn’t let him fall, he didn’t! He held . . . 

Terror and despair so deep it swallowed him up whole from his toes to the top of his head, opened a vault in his mind. He knew, deep inside he knew that he didn’t hold. It wasn’t about Jared and it wasn’t on that bridge but he did let her down.

Her eyes pleading with him to not let go, for an eternity of a split second . . .

“Leave me alone!” A moan that escaped his throat was not human. He wanted to run, to get away from those memories but instead he collapsed again, hitting his knees on the ground so hard that for a moment he thought he would never walk again. It was nothing compared to what she must have felt.

His mind showed him, like on a slo-mo film, the memory. Her body fifteen feet below, on her side as if she’d fallen asleep. His mind showed him his emotions then, calm, collected, determined. There had been three other people, her friends. Funny thing, Jensen couldn’t remember any of their names now but at the time he had known them all, he had known who to ask to take care of the others, who had been the most cool-headed. He had called for help, had climbed down, made sure the girl was alive, immobilized her, used all his first-aid knowledge, all the while quiet and composed. When the girl had briefly regained consciousness he had managed to calm her down enough so she hadn’t injured herself more. When the helicopter had taken her to Redding he had returned to the other tourists and had safely brought them all back to the Ranger Station.

It hadn’t been until the next day that he’d lost it. He had told Chris that he’d needed to ‘get back in the saddle’. Chris and Jeffrey had both been against it, but he’d convinced them. And up there, on the ridge of Chaos Craggs, he had lost it.

He hadn’t gotten  _it_  back until now. He had been told, one day during his forced leave, that the girl had been in the ICU and he was sure Chris had given him more updates on her condition but Jensen had not registered any other. He had no idea if she died or . . .

“I let her go,” he whispered.

Jared kneeled in front of him. He held out his hands and tried to soothe him but it was obvious even he was at a loss for words.

“A tourist?” he asked eventually and Jensen nodded. “Did she? . . .” even he couldn’t quite say it.

Jensen shook his head, “I don’t know. She was alive when they took her but I can’t remember . . . I don’t know. She may have died, or broken her back. I don’t know.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Broken back?” Jensen looked up to Jared, feeling somewhat incredulous. “Says who?”

“What do you mean?” Jared’s brow furrowed.

“I mean . . . You’re the last person I’d expect to say that. You’re the one who claims you can do everything I can. Why couldn’t she? Why would it be bad for her when it’s obviously not bad for you?” For some reason it didn’t really feel logical but Jensen would give his right hand and then some for assurance that whatever happened to this girl he’d been responsible for, would be okay one way or another. Apparently Jared didn’t intend to give him that.

“Jensen.” He shook his head. “With me it’s different -- I’ve always been like this, I don’t know anything else. Besides, for the record, no, I don’t think I can do all you can. I can do more than you believe I can, that’s the difference.” He squeezed Jensen’s hand and forced him to look up. “As for that girl -- her situation, if she really was injured this way, would be a whole lot of different. It doesn’t mean she couldn’t learn how to cope, how to gain most of her life and be happy, I believe she could. It’s up to her. As it is up to you to get over your guilt and start living again.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“I know it’s not but it’s not impossible either. I need you, man!” He caught abruptly as if he realized he’d said too much. Dropped his gaze for the first time since they met and Jensen could almost tell he blushed. “You gave me your trust,” he mumbled and slowly looked up. For the first time Jensen saw hesitation in his face. “You said I was awesome. I need that. I need someone to believe in the potential underneath all this.” He gestured to his deformed body.

Jensen nodded. He understood. He believed.

“I want you to take me to Brokeoff Mountain,” Jared whispered in a voice so quiet it was barely audible and then added even softer. “Maybe even to . . .” This name remained unsaid but Jensen thought he knew which peak Jared meant. They sat in dirt in the middle of the path and stared at each other, each of them seeing, presumably, more than met the eye, in the other. The potential underneath. Jensen wondered what exactly Jared saw when he added with surprising affection, “I want it to be you.”

***

 **Chapter Nine**  
***

He fell in love. It was as stupid and as simple as that. Ackles was too pretty for his own good but there was more, maybe his vulnerability, maybe his kindness. Either way, Jared fell for it.

“I’ve been thinking,” Jensen said quietly at one point, his eyes fixed in the distance ahead. “About Brokeoff.” Jared could see how hard he tried not to lose control, to be the reliable guide he was supposed to be, in the set of his jaw, in the blankness of his stare. 

“What about it?” he asked gently, hoping that talking about the mountains would help Jensen feel like the ranger he was.

“Well, normally it’s a one-day trip,” Jensen explained. “Even half-a-day but I think we’d have to spread it for a bit longer and get the permit to stay the night, maybe a few nights.”

“It’s not a problem.” Jared nodded, thinking that he would have to force Chad to go with them if that was the case. He would need a massage in the evening. Damn, he needed one now; his legs were cramping already. He had switched from the swing-through gait to two-point some time ago and was afraid he would soon resort to four-point. These walk-patterns required less energy but were noticeably slower too.

“We’d take the southern approach.” Jensen turned to him, his eyes guarded, stern.

“Of course!” Jared had been joking about taking the northern wall! He’d been sure the ranger figured but apparently he had been too caught up in his trouble at the time.

Jensen sighed, “There’s more. This route is most glorious mid-August but there are summers when you can find snow even that late and I think it would be too dangerous for you, so I’d recommend late August.”

“That’s what I had planned.”

“Great. In the mean time--” Jensen stopped. He was looking up at the ridge above them. “Do you need a break?” he asked, turning to Jared. “We might stop at Cold Boiling Lake, it’s quite an attraction.” He moved again and kept talking, “Not long after that there’s a trail junction. We’ll go east to King’s Creek now; the northern route goes to Bumpass Hell.” He indicated the ridge he’d looked at earlier. “It’s really short although quite steep. If we started early morning, I estimate we would make it to the parking lot near Lake Hellen by nightfall.”

Jared blinked. What was Jensen suggesting? The belief the guide apparently had in him was inspiring but with his legs cramping like they were already he knew he’d be lucky if he could walk at all the next day.

“Jensen, I don’t think so,” he said. “I’d rather take the flat of Mt. Conrad Loop tomorrow.”

“Oh, no. I didn’t mean tomorrow!” Jensen was so adorable when he blushed and stuttered. “Sorry, I didn’t want to make you feel like I’m demanding some crazyness. Jared, I’m . . . I’m trying to . . . I’m taking your . . . well . . .  _you_ , into consideration. I--” he was caught out completely and fell silent.

Jared watched him smiling and when Jensen finally spread his arms helplessly, he couldn’t help but say, “You’re beautiful.”

Jensen gaped, his full lips opening and closing in silent shock.

“I know, awkward.” Jared bowed his head. He didn’t plan for it to go like this. Okay, so he fell for the handsome ranger but he didn’t mean to inflict himself and his feelings on anyone. Especially when their knowing each other was only beginning and Jared couldn’t really be certain if after such a declaration Jensen wouldn’t leave him behind in the middle of the wilderness. He looked up and smiled timidly. Naaah, Jensen wouldn’t be that mean; he was a good-hearted guy. Jared shrugged, still smiling and declared, “So I find you attractive. I’ll understand if it makes you uncomfortable and you don’t want to deal with me anymore after today.” He hoped Jensen wouldn’t take him up on such statement.

“I--” Jensen choked and Jared’s smile faltered a little. ‘Awkward’ started to sound like an understatement. Suddenly worried, he barely heard a whispered, “Me too.”

“You too? You what?”

“Find you . . .” Jensen’s eyes involuntary went to Jared’s legs as he blurted out-- “attractive.”

“Seriously?” Jared questioned and when Jensen braved to look up and their eyes met, Jared kind of had no choice but to believe that he could appear good-looking to someone, there was so much admiration in this gaze. Jensen must have meant all that stuff ‘underneath’ . . . 

“I meant for the next trip,” Jensen said out of the blue and Jared needed to backtrack this conversation. What were they saying before he admitted to being in love? Ah, about the Bumpass Hell trail. “There are quite a few routes here, in Lassen, not just this one and Brokeoff.”

“Oh, I know, Jensen. I studied guide-books all winter.” They both laughed. “I need to train a bit before I can challenge Brokeoff. So yeah, Bumpass Hell is a good idea. As is Sulphur Works, is that the name? And plenty of others. I want to come here every other weekend this summer, would that work for you?”

“Perfectly.”

***

Jensen felt weird. Falling in love was never an easy task for him and falling in love with someone like Jared was not only sudden and unexpected, it also presented challenges Jensen was unprepared for and couldn’t quite imagine. The most stunning in all this was the fact that this infatuation was apparently reciprocated. Jensen had no idea what to do about it so he rambled on and on about the trails in the Mill Creek area and to the north and east from there.

It was getting late too and Jared was walking slower and slower. The breaks were more and more often and they were getting longer each time. Jensen didn’t know what to do. He was aware of Jared’s pride, he admired Jared for it but if the night caught them out here, things might turn dangerous, not to mention unpleasant. They didn’t have the equipment to spend the cold May night out in the open, they didn’t have the permit to make a fire and Jensen was quite certain that Jared wouldn’t feel well the next day if he had to sleep on the hard, rocky ground.

They were less than a quarter mile from the Campground. It was just over the slope and hey, if Jensen wasn’t walking next to Jared for whom each step was a fight, he wouldn’t even notice that the terrain was rising. It was less than fifteen minutes of fast walk away. However at their current pace it might even be an hour. They would still make it by nightfall but Jensen remembered that an hour ago he had thought the same -- that they had an hour left -- and they were marginally closer and constantly slowing down.

Really, it was no time for sentiments.

Jared had started complaining a while ago and even though Jensen knew he didn’t really mean it, when the tourist uttered another groaned, “I can’t,” the ranger decided he would take it at face value. He threw both backpacks to the side of the road -- he had carried Jared’s since Cold Boiling Lake -- indending to return for them later. Then he stood before Jared and held his confused stare.

“C’mon,” he said. Nothing more.

Jared was exhausted, there was no arguing that. He shrugged and slowly placed his right crutch a few inches forward. Followed it by a slow and small movement of his left foot.

“One,” Jensen commented. He wanted to sound confident; instead his voice nearly broke so he added under his breath. “You can do it! C’mon.”

Jared inhaled, exhaled, braced himself and took another step.

“Two,” said Jensen. Jared quickly responded with another step, “Three.” Jared stopped. He was breathing hard through clenched teeth. His hands were shaking and for a moment Jensen thought he should put an end to this right away. But no, not yet. He had too much admiration for his new friend’s pride to make it too simple. Friend, Jensen smiled to himself. “You can do it, keep going.”

One more. Crutch up and forward, foot up and forward. Even watching it hurt, “Four.” Again, “Five.” And again, “Six. C’mon, only four left.”

Jared looked up briefly and Jensen saw a spark of realization in his eyes as the numbers computed. Six. And four. Six and four equals ten. Ten steps. The corners of his lips lifted in a hint of a smile, a far cry from the broad, happy grin that lit up his face this morning, but in his eyes Jensen could see the old determination once again.

“Seven. Eight. Nine. Jared, only one more!”

Only one more.

As soon as Jared took that final tenth step Jensen caught him under his arms, wrapped Jared’s arms around his neck and dropped the crutches. Jared hung on him like a sack of potatoes but all Jensen could think of was how close their faces were now. Jared’s bright hazel eyes, his playful smirk. For a split second Jensen wanted to close the distance and join those lips with his. He shook his head. There would be time for this. Later.

“Piggyback?” Jensen asked instead and Jared only nodded, too worn out to speak.

Turning around and lowering enough so he could lift Jared, without risking him falling on his face was not easy, but together they managed. Then Jensen could feel exactly how tense Jared’s muscles were, as he tried to pry his legs apart in order to place them on his hips. Finally he managed and even though the position was not the most comfortable, he strolled ahead. They had to take a break anyway when the pain became too much for Jared. Later they tried a different position and all in all they got to the Campground half an hour later.

Chad Michael Murray, Jared’s assistant and physiotherapist was already waiting on the road, full of rage and grievances but he quickly channelled his energy into releasing Jared’s cramps and Jensen ran back to bring the backpacks and crutches. Before he left Jared squeezed his arm, winked and said simply, “You can count!” Jensen couldn’t expect anything more heart-warming than that.

***

**Epilogue**

***

 

Jared called the Ranger Station early morning the next day. The previous evening he was too exhausted to focus propperly but now . . . he had a very important question to ask Jensen’s colleagues.

 

“Jeffrey Dean Morgan speaking. Can I help you?”

 

“Yes. I am Jared Padalecki--” Jared begun to introduce himself but he didn’t need to.

 

“Oh, yes!” Morgan remembered him. “You went on that trip with Ackles. Was everything alright? The head of the campground reported that you came in after dark.”

 

“No, yes, everything was alright with that.” Jared needed to assure the boss that Jensen did his job perfectly because he was about to mention some very difficult things. “I had the best guide I could wish for. He brought me home safe. There is something I need to know, however and it concerns someone injured on Jensen’s watch.”

 

“Oh.” He heard on the other side. It was more than obvious that Morgan knew what Jared was talking about. He waited for the question to be asked.

 

“Yes.” Jared braced himself. “I wanted to ask you what happened to this girl who had an accident. It was a few weeks ago, I think.”

 

“Was there a problem?” The question was guarded. “Did Jensen? . . .”

 

“No, there was no problem. I am simply a naturally curious person.” It was not a good explanation and it didn’t help winning the ranger’s trust.

 

“I don’t think I can disclose any information about her to you.”

 

Right.

 

“I don’t even know her name,” Jared tried and then decided to be honest. “I only want to know how serious her condition was because I think Jensen has taken it worse than you believed. He couldn’t even recall the events, only after a while . . . He wasn’t able to tell me much but I’m sure he’ll be asking you about it soon enough and I . . . I think I could help him . . . We talked about stuff. I want to tell him if it’s good news or prepare him for a bad one.”

 

There was a long silence on the other side and Jared wondered exactly how dumb and/or impudent he sounded. He’d known Jensen for a day. How would he be better at holding Jensen’s hand through this than his long-time friends?

 

Perhaps those friends felt helpless enough, because just as he was about to say something, he heard a sigh, “I understand,” then another long pause which nearly got him to speak up again. “Do you think I would let him be a guide if it was really bad news?” Morgan said a in a much stronger voice. “The legal proceedings alone . . . No, it’s not ultimately <i>bad</i>. It’s not very good either. The girl had a severe concussion, three broken ribs and some internal bruising. It will take her a while to recuperate. But last I checked, few days ago, she was about to be released from the hospital, so I guess it could have been worse.”

 

“Thank you!” Jared felt his face break out in a wide, happy grin.

 

As sad as it was that the girl had been hurt in the first place, Jared knew that now he had a solid foundation on which to build Jensen’s self-confidence again. It was quite probable that Jensen had started the road to recovery already, his actions toward the evening proved how much he had changed in this one day. With Jared’s support -- because Jared more than intended to latch onto that connection they found yesterday and make it grow -- Jensen would soon be the same awesome ranger he -- Jared was sure of it -- used to be.

 

***

.end

 


End file.
